


The Scars You Can't See

by Kivea



Series: Twenny Week [1]
Category: South Park
Genre: Friendship, Hell, Kenny dies but then comes back, Light Angst, M/M, Panic Attacks, Scars, Swearing, Temporary Character Death, brief description of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2020-06-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24569575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivea/pseuds/Kivea
Summary: Day 1: ScarsAfter a fight with Damien, the Prince of Hell plays a nasty trick on Kenny. The mental scars of the people he cares for are shown on their face, visible and clear as day, and the blonde...doesn't know how to handle it.Less shippy, more friendship, written for Twenny Week
Relationships: Kenny McCormick & Tweek Tweak, Kenny McCormick/Tweek Tweak
Series: Twenny Week [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775890
Comments: 4
Kudos: 52





	The Scars You Can't See

“Kenny! Oi, Ken, get outta bed! Ya’ got school!” 

He groaned at the reminder, stirring slowly. The idea of _school_ wasn’t never very welcomed on a respawn day, not when he’d been hit by a truck. But he knew better than to ignore his older brother. When Kevin was tasked with waking him up it could grow ugly. The wonderful man was never known for his patience. 

So he pulled himself out of bed, rolling off the mattress and onto the floor, sprawling out and letting the cold air wake him up. 

It did it’s job. 

“Did you hear me, ya’ lil shit?” came the light-hearted ribbing as his door opened. “I said get up!” 

Before he had a chance to respond, the words died in his throat with a cry of horror. 

Kevin was standing in his doorway, one hand still on the door, dressed in his usual attire looking as scruffy as ever, but it was his face that caught Kenny’s eyes and trapped him in fear. 

From underneath the lazily buttoned shirt crept black tendrils. They raised, from the left side of his collar up his neck towards his face. One stretched far up his cheek, etched into his skin in a way that made Kenny want to vomit. 

“What’s that look for?” 

“What happened to your face?” 

Kevin gave a scoff and a roll of his eyes. “Knock it off, it’s too early to deal with your piss-ass sense o’ humour. Get up!” 

With that, he was gone. 

Kenny wracked his brain for an answer. What even were they? Kevin brushed it off, like nothing was wrong, when there was clearly something _very wrong_. How long had he been gone this time? It didn’t feel like long at all. He checked the phone he kept on his nightstand; a second-hand, pay as you go type that Kyle had gifted to him when he got an upgrade. 

One day. He’d missed only one day, and his brother was all shades of fucked up. 

He scrambled his way into his clothes before he shot out the room. He tore through the hallway towards the living room, stopping in his tracks as he looked in the kitchen. 

His mother was there, turning with a wobbly smile, and addressed him with: “You better get goin’ now, Ken, else you’ll be late! Karen’s already on her way!” 

“Right,” he forced a smile on his lips, eyes flicking down from his mother’s face to where his brother sat at the table, giving him a funny look. “Thanks for waking me up, dude.” 

His brother nodded his approval. 

He was out the house in a flash. 

Burnt into his brain was the way his mother’s face had looked. He’d barely seen the smile on her face through the violent red streaks across her eyes. 

He had to stay calm. He had to just – act _normal_. It was his specialty. Sometimes when he respawned, weird shit happened. Like the time he woke up and he had an extra finger. Sometimes it’s just not quite right. Sometimes whatever spawns him in just likes to play some tricks on him. Had he pissed off any hell dwellers in the day he’d been down there? 

Damien. He’d had a row with _Damien the fucking asshole._

Maybe he had been a bit of an asshole too. He’d made fun of the guy for being a little out of touch – socially – when he’d been so harsh on Kenny for being too soft on people. They usually had a pretty rocky friendship, definitely friends, but didn’t always see eye to eye. He’d gloated that he was better at being able to tune-in with what other people were feeling than Damien. 

Damien, who’d told him that Kenny couldn’t see people like he saw people. Only thought he knew what they were thinking, what they were feeling. Pride, he had said, was a sin. 

Which Kenny had pointed out was probably why he was in _hell_ , with the _sinners_ , but then Satan had interrupted them. 

“Fuckin’ bastard,” Kenny ground out. “If he did this I’m gonna tear him to shreds when I’m down there next.” 

When he’d grown the extra finger, all he had to do was wait, and it had shed itself. Whatever issues he ever had on respawning usually disappeared over time; nature preferred it when things were as they were meant to be. Maybe this would be the same? Until it left, he’d just have to ignore it. 

Arriving at Park County High promised that wouldn’t be as easy as he hoped. 

Each student had something about them that Kenny couldn’t stop staring at. He’d drawn his hood up over his head, pulling the zip all the way and kept his vision on the floor as best he could. He had to ignore it. Just ignore it. One of those days where he didn’t really want to talk to people. 

Apparently people wanted to talk to him. 

“Hey, dude, you do the English homework?” 

He froze, sucked in a breath to prepare himself, and looked up at Stan Marsh, standing at the locker next to his. 

His response died on his lips. 

There was bruising all across his temple, down over his eyes. Purple, blue, and black blotches that caused him to grimace. He counted himself lucky that Stan wasn’t looking at him, instead focusing on the locker and completely missing Kenny’s expression. 

Eventually the blacked eyes turned, frown on his face. “You hear me?” 

“What?” Kenny gave a short laugh. “Yeah, sorry, uh, I didn’t do it.” 

“Me neither.” 

“You like English.” 

Stan gave wry grin. “Yeah, but I kind of…forgot?” 

He licked his lips, turning back to the locker and trying to block it out his mind. 

_Just ignore it._

“Not interested if it’s not edgy poetry, huh?” 

Stan chuckled low. “I’m not that bad.” 

“Head off without me, if you want,” Kenny muttered with his head still in his locker. “I think I might be a while.” 

“If you’re sure, dude.” 

He let out a breath of relief as he heard the locker next to him shut and saw Stan’s shadow disappear. He had been struggling to keep his voice steady. It was definitely not going to be as easy as he hoped. 

He rushed through the halls to get to his first class, ignoring Bebe who called out to him, and turning a corner only to barrel shoulder first into someone else. 

“Shit – Kenny, I’m-?!” 

He was dimly aware of the apology, but couldn’t bring himself to look up and acknowledge it. It was Tweek, and he didn’t _want_ to see what Tweek had to say. 

Instead he brushed it off with: “Yeah, sure.” 

First period was hell. He forced himself to look at everyone, deciding that maybe the best thing to do would be to adjust to the new vision. If people were going to talk to him, he needed to be able to react accordingly. Some people were easier to look at than others; their teachers, while still marred with the same deformities and marks that other people had, seemed to have older things. Things that looked less dramatic. Easier on the eyes. 

He thought maybe he’d got the hang of it by break. It was after English, seeing Stan who was moaning about the trouble they were in, and the bruising round his temple wasn’t so much as a shock. He’d prepared himself for it, mentally. 

He sat at table in the outdoor courtyard with his friends, Kyle, Cartman, and Butters joining them. He was thankful for his quiet nature at times like this, giving him a breather from having to stare at them and engage when he couldn’t. Unfortunately two people couldn’t let sleeping dogs lie. 

Cartman spoke first. “What’s up with you, po-boy? Get tossed around the house too many times?” 

Kenny rolled his eyes, but couldn’t quite meet Cartman’s eyes beyond the lumps and bumps that protruded from his head. “Fuck you, fatass.” 

“Don’t be an asshole, Cartman,” Kyle bit out, though his eyes turned to Kenny. The blonde frowned as his eyes met the redhead’s, who’s face seemed so much more normal than the others, though something wasn’t quite right. He could see something behind his skin, something like a crack, but it was almost as if it was hidden. “Seriously, though, are you okay, dude? You seem pretty quiet.” 

“I’m fine, really.” 

“You know you can talk to us, if you need to.” 

He forced a smile at Kyle’s efforts to be kind. “I know, dude. But I’m okay.” 

“Yeah, Kahl, he’s fine. It’s everyone else who isn’t.” 

He tried not to openly flinch. Cartman’s words hit a soft spot. He hoped it would be enough to take Kyle’s attention away from him. 

But it wasn’t. Instead the redhead picked up on his flinching and his determination seemed to only grow. “Kenny-!” 

“I said I’m fine!” he snapped out. “Lay off, alr-?!” 

His words were cut off with the visual affect he saw. 

Across Kyle’s left cheek there was a crack. A crack that formed with his words, breaking the seemingly normal outer layer he presented. Kenny stared in horror as his brain kicked into overtime. Kyle couldn’t have been that good at hiding to have hidden behind whatever bastard trick Damien was playing, could he? 

He wasn’t actually that guarded, right? 

Kenny hadn’t actually caused that crack, right? 

_Right?_

He was on his feet before his brain caught up to his legs. All four of them stared up at him, waiting for some explanation. 

“I-I have to go.” 

He turned and raced across the courtyard. He needed to be away – away from his friends, away from the people around them, away from anywhere he could cause damage. 

He didn’t want to cause damage. 

He didn’t want to make it worse. 

_Had he made Kyle worse?_

He stumbled head first into a bathroom, gasping out a breath when he saw no one else there. He raced to the sinks and splashed some water on his face in an attempt to calm himself down. 

It didn’t work. 

He ended up on the floor, back pressed against the tiles as he tried to talk himself down, murmuring words to himself. His breathing felt painful, as painful as the thoughts racing around his brain, none of which he could grasp onto long enough to fully realise. He couldn’t tell what he was thinking, what he was feeling, there was too much all at once and – 

He didn’t notice the door opening. Didn’t notice someone jump in shock when they saw him curled up on the floor. Didn’t notice anything until the person spoke. 

“Kenny, look at me.” 

He struggled to focus through the haze of panic in his brain, focused only on how difficult he was finding it to breathe. But then there was a hand on his, fingers gently coaxing him into looking up. His eyes locked with hazel orbs, wide and flickering, and it took all his effort not to look anywhere else. 

“Wha-what’s happening?” he gasped out. 

“You’re having a panic attack,” the gentle voice informed. “So just focus on me, okay?” 

He nodded numbly, not taking his eyes off the ones looking down at him. Warm, despite the brows pulled together in growing concern. 

It was enough to bring him back to earth. Enough to bring his breathing to a more normal pace, to bring his racing brain to a slow stop. As the panic began to subside, his brain supplied the information that this was Tweek Tweak looking down at him, holding his hand, waiting for him to recover. The blonde barista that he’d bumped into earlier that day, and promptly shoved out the way. 

“Shit,” he muttered as realisation dawned. “I’m sorry, about earlier, I was-!” 

“You’re gonna send yourself into another panic.” 

He didn’t dare open his mouth. 

There was an uncertain smile on Tweek’s face. “It’s alright. I get it, sometimes it’s…some days are easier than others, man, I’m not gonna fault you for one bad day.” 

He licked his lips in an attempt to make them feel less dry. It didn’t work. 

“Is there…anything I can do? Anything you need?” 

He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Just…stay a second, yeah?” 

“Course, man, whatever you need.” 

He permitted himself to look across Tweek’s face. 

It wasn’t like the other scars that he’d seen on some of his friends. They’d all been different, but Tweek’s were especially complicated. Or maybe that was just because it was the first one he was properly looking at since he saw Stan by the lockers. He hadn’t been able to properly look at anyone else. 

He barely noticed as he raised a hand to the lines that etched themselves into Tweek’s skin along the side of his brain, curves that looped around each other. The touch of his fingertips made Tweek jump, and it was enough to bring him back to his senses with wide eyes, apology on his lips as he went to pull back. 

But Tweek held him in place. Took his wrist and pulled his hand forward until his fingertips were touching the pale forehead again. 

He took the permission for what it was. 

He trailed the curves round down the bridge of his nose, the bags under his eyes and across his cheeks. They tailed off here, the majority around his hairline, as erratic as the blonde hair that graced his head. Kenny didn’t pull his hand away as he locked eyes again, feeling calmer than he had. 

“Thanks.” 

Tweek shrugged like it was no big deal, though his eyes were flickering around. 

“I’m sorry for shrugging you off earlier.” 

“It’s fine,” he insisted. “Are you…feeling any better?” 

“Yeah. I think so,” he found he was being honest as he said it, though he supposed he needed to explain himself. “I guess I just…I-uh-?” 

“You don’t need to tell me what happened.” 

He felt a wave of relief wash over him at the words, looking up with wide eyes. 

“It’s really none of my business, and – I mean, sometimes I just have panic attacks because the weather’s not what the weather man said, y’know? Like, life’s got a lot of pressures, man, I get it.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It does.” 

Tweek seemed to move his weight around as he spoke. “Do you…wanna go home?” 

“What?” 

“Y’know, like, we could just ditch the rest – sometimes when my brain’s just, too much, Craig takes me home or convinces them to let me leave, so if you’re not feeling well maybe we should do that – I mean, I don’t have to – y’know, you can go on your own, if you wanna be alone, but-?!” 

“I don’t wanna be on me own,” Kenny admitted. “I just…don’t want to be around everyone. If you’re willing…” 

“Yeah, man. Let’s go.” 

They didn’t make it out of the school. Freak explosion in the chemistry room as they passed that caused glass to shatter; he used himself as a shield for Tweek, and ended up with a chunk of the stuff cutting open his throat, leaving him to bleed out and suffocate on the floor. He was dimly aware of the screaming as it happened, though the last thing he saw were the panicked hazel eyes and the last thing he felt were not-so-gentle hands scrambling at his neck. 

Damien greeted him when he arrived, smug smile and everything. 

Satan actually had to pull them apart that time from the little scuffle they were having in the welcome plaza, admonishing them for fooling about where they were meant to be greeting guests. 

Later on he would admit to the dark haired Prince of Hell that it had opened his eyes a bit, now he wasn’t in the midst of it. Now he had time to think about it and process it. It made him see some people differently. Stan’s ‘goth phase 2.0’, which might’ve had less to do with him hanging out with Henrietta again and more to do with the problems in his brain. Kyle’s flawless presentation, that he was working so hard on yet could shatter like glass. 

Tweek’s soothing voice in a time he couldn’t calm down. Gentle hands bringing him to. Experience of dealing with years of panic attacks that he was willing to share. 

On the next respawn day, he found himself seeking the blonde out. 

**Author's Note:**

> I uh 
> 
> I never write angst, honestly, so I hope this was alright. I wanted to write something for the Supernatural prompt, but this story came to me so vividly and quickly that I ended up writing this instead haha!


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